


With the Moon I Run

by sequence_fairy



Category: Bleach
Genre: Angst, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-24
Updated: 2017-09-24
Packaged: 2019-01-04 16:13:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12172332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sequence_fairy/pseuds/sequence_fairy
Summary: ‘May the moonremember you in waves.may you be writteninto the petals of a burning sun’ -x





	With the Moon I Run

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tiffthom](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tiffthom/gifts).



> Written for [ichirukimonth](http://ichirukimonth.tumblr.com). Prompt was 'angst'.

For a war that was fought for nearly a millennia, the end is disarmingly simple; Rukia defeats the Quincy king to save the world. 

(Except it’s not simple at all, because Ichigo is dead and Yhwach is laughing and Rukia unsheathes her blade and– ) 

Later, they will tell stories of how she’d frozen at the sight of him, splayed out across the stones, body broken and blood spilled; how she’d closed her eyes, whispered three words, and how she’d ended it all. 

(The end is blinding white and frigid cold)

A thousand years of bloodshed, ended in less than four seconds. When the dust settled, she turned and walked away, her crown of ice smashing against stone steps as she left. 

She was still water then, her grief buried fathoms deep and encased in ice. 

Immediately after, Rukia remembers nothing but the rain. Endless, soaking rain that kept up for weeks until everything was over-saturated and half-drowned. Grey skies and wet grass and the squelch of mud between her toes as she moved mindlessly through _kata_  after  _kata_  in the courtyard of the Kuchiki manor house. 

They burn Ichigo’s body. 

The pyre is lit at twilight and the flames climb to the low clouds. Rukia watches, dry-eyed, as the fire consumes his remains and she alone, stays, through the night, until, just as the sun rises, the last ember goes out. 

Ten years later, Rukia accepts a promotion to  _taichou_ , dons her new _haori_ and takes over the division that gave her a place to grow and learn. She leaves her lieutenant’s seat empty. 

No one would dare to openly suggest that she assign someone to that seat or hold a contest in order to choose a second in command, but they say it all the same. They say it in the way their eyes slide from the empty lieutenant’s chair to hers, in the way she sits, unaccompanied at the weekly senior officer’s meetings, and the way she takes both the captain and lieutenant’s duties, without dividing them among the remainder of her seated officers. 

They also say, nevertheless, that she couldn’t have loved him the way he loved her – all incandescent brilliance and flame – and that the Kuchiki aloofness sits too easily on her shoulders. Rukia wonders if they’re right, and sometimes, she wishes she could remember how to feel anything but the numbing cold. 

Rukia does nothing to dispel the rumours. 

There’s an incursion by a group of organized hollows into the Rukongai late that year. Rukia’s division is on routine patrol of the district when they appear. 

Engagement is unavoidable. 

The skirmishes travel through alleyways and over rooftops, and are made more difficult by the necessity of protecting civilians and the gathering dark.  _Shunpo_  is useless in such close quarters, so it’s blades against bone and the air fills with the thick, oil-slick drag of the released _reishi_ from the hollows as they are defeated. 

Rukia perches on a rooftop away from the fighting, breathing in the heavy air, feeling the way it settles against her skin, so vividly alive in a way that reminds her of a time when that scent meant something else. There is no time for memory now – no time for the echo of his voice or the remembrance of his touch – so Rukia shakes her head and leaps into the fray,  _sode no shirayuki_ a blur in her hands. 

Soon, there are only a few stragglers left. Rukia rallies her troops; they herd the hollows out of the rabbit warren of the district shantytown and into the grasslands between the districts, as the moon rises. Rukia is using  _kido_ to patch up an unseated  _Shinigami_  when her sixth seat goes down, caught off guard by a  _cero_. 

Later, they’ll talk about the unearthly chill that swept across the field. They’ll talk about the way it felt like Kuchiki _-taichou’s reiatsu_  spiraled in instead of billowing out, until she released it, in a wave of lethal cold that turned the hollows to frozen statues before they shattered into glittering pieces. They will talk about how she walked off the killing field, still garbed in the brilliant white of her  _bankai_ , her expression haunted. 

Later still, Renji will find her on  _Sokyokou_  hill, crown of ice and bone remaining un-melted in her hands, and he will sit next to her, red braid falling over his shoulder. Rukia will look up, and Renji will feel his throat close at the quickly shuttered pain in her eyes. 

“Couldn’t save her either,” Rukia will say, and toss the crown to the ground, and it will shatter. The sound will seem to echo in the silence between them. 

“He wouldn’t want you to blame yourself,” Renji will say after a long moment, and Rukia will explode into bristling rage, leaping to her feet and unsheathing  _sode no shirayuki_  to press the point to Renji’s throat. 

“What do you know about what he would want?” Rukia will snarl, and Renji will hear a familiar growl under her voice, one that he thought had been laid to rest when they’d consigned Ichigo’s body to the flames. 

“You sound like him,” Renji will say, heedless of the way Rukia’s eyes will widen and her grip on the hilt of her sword will falter. “It’s been ten years, Rukia,” Renji will say, “Ichigo wouldn’t have wanted you to do this to yourself. He didn’t die so you could spend the rest of your life not living it.” 

“I am living my life,” Rukia will say, and she will drop her blade to let it hang in a loose grip at her side. “What do you know anyway?”

“I know you, Rukia,” Renji will answer, and then sigh and get to his feet. Rukia will step back and turn away from him. Renji will reach out, and grasp her shoulder. Rukia will shake him off and step into  _shunpo_ , leaving Renji alone on the hilltop, his hand falling limply to his side.

The moon will rise, white and full and cold, and Renji will watch the light glitter in the shards of Rukia’s crown and think about the way it looks the same as a shattered sword on marble. 


End file.
